Goro: The One Thing
You and me, Gruumsh? We're gonna have stern words. Kneeling on the floor of the cavern, Goro worked the Ring of Mind Shielding off Hansel's pinkie and slid it back on his own finger, defeated. He wanted to know why it hadn't fucking worked. Maybe it was just that a god was strong enough to do what he fucking wanted, but Goro was never satisfied with answers like that. He wanted the fucking reasons. He wanted to know the mechanisms. There had to be a way to stop it. It felt good to have the ring back on his hand—safe. Especially now that fuckin' Roddy knew how to cast Detect Thoughts. Creepy. But he would have preferred, a thousand times over, to know Hansel was protected. It had been worth it. Goro folded over and lay against Hansel's chest. Mine. He's mine. I'm not sure you understand the meaning of the word, you one-eyed fuck. Guess you think everything's yours. That ain't how it fucking works, though. Seems you're a big old coward who decided to grab him when I wasn't looking. A hundred fucking feet away, tucked in a hole in the cave wall. Didn't have a fucking clue what was going on until it was too late. He was kinda fucking mad at Mask, too, if he was being honest. Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on him when I can't? Isn't that what shit like this is for? He fingered the silver charm tied around Hansel's wrist. Can you not fucking hide him from Gruumsh for me? Gruumsh only had one eye, after all. Goro wondered how fucking hard he'd have to pray to talk Mask into sneaking up and plucking it out. # Last time, they'd wanted to keep Hansel wounded so he'd be easy to knock out again if needed. Hadn't actually been needed, and Goro didn't think it was needed this time. He didn't want Hansel to wake up in pain. He waited until everyone was distracted with the pseudodragon hatchlings. He used up what charges were left on his wand, healing the most obvious injuries; the fractures and lacerations on his face from Larkin's brass knuckles, the puncture wounds from Mishka's and Morgan's rapiers. It was hard to heal an unconscious person. You couldn't ask them what hurt; couldn't probe tissues and watch for a reaction. Hansel would've tried to keep it all hidden, anyway. Goro still didn't quite understand why he did that—thought other people needed it more than him, sure, but everyone else was fine, and Goro had magic left, so it'd be a fucking waste not to use it, or something. Yeah, that was what he told himself. The night the Graverunners had been dispatched to rescue Nixie from pirates, there'd been an explosion, and Hansel had taken the brunt of it. Goro had barely known Hansel then—a week, maybe—but he'd seen him go down, and he'd fucking bolted for him, because that was his job, and—Hansel had gotten back up. Shook it off. So, Goro got it. He did. He knew Hansel didn't need healing as urgently as most other people. And that was what he'd told himself while they fought the hydra, and he watched ever more color drain from his Vitality Bracelet. He'll shake it off. Focus. Stay back. Save your magic. Wait until someone else needs healing, too, and catch them all with a single spell. Ignoring the voice that screamed, He's hurt. He's hurt. The person I love—who lights up my days, holds me and keeps me warm, keeps me safe, who loves me, loves me, loves me so good—is fucking bleeding. He'd stayed back. He'd saved his magic. Hansel hadn't shaken it off, though. Goro removed all of Hansel's armor, tugged up his shirt. Turned him over, examining him carefully, finding every bruise and discoloration, every inflammation, everywhere his skin felt too warm or cold to the touch. It was hard to heal an unconscious person, but it was easy to find abnormalities on someone whose body you'd spent so many hours touching already. Goro used up every bit of magic he had left, healing him. Wrung himself dry. Didn't matter. They still had Luci in case of emergencies. It did give Luci pause when she saw Hansel again, no doubt noticing he'd been healed underneath the blood Goro hadn't yet cleaned off. She glanced at Goro but didn't say anything. # At the inn, while the others carried Hansel to a bed, Goro gathered towels and a basin of water. He set it on the woodstove to heat up, not wanting to ask Mishka to do it with his magic. Not wanting to ask anyone for anything. They all looked too worn out, raw; giddy and frenetic from the victory but utterly exhausted and afraid. When the water had just begun to steam, he carried the basin to the bed, using the towels to keep from burning his hands. He let it cool down until it was lukewarm. Dribbled a few drops on the inside of his wrist to make sure. He wet one of the towels and went to work. Carefully wiping away the soot and grit and dried blood, starting on Hansel's face and moving to his neck, then his hands. Gentle as he fucking could be, even though he'd already healed the bruises and broken skin. Gentle because Hansel deserved it, because it was who he was, even if he was thick-skinned enough to take all the beatings he threw himself in the way of. He was soft, too. When his face was clean, Goro couldn't help kissing it. People had been coming in and out of the room, but he caught himself a private moment. "Hey, beautiful," he whispered, stroking Hansel's cheek. "Beautiful boy. Dreamy dream guy." Well, dream guy usually implied there'd been some dreaming that went on before you wound up with someone, so was that accurate? Goro hadn't dreamed at all. He dreamed now, though. Kept thinking about how he and Hansel could get married. Still seemed kinda fucking ridiculous, like he was a kid playing make-believe. But he'd started to picture it more. Seemed safer to, ever since Hansel had tied the twine around his finger. Him and Hansel standing up in front of everybody, like Raef and Griffin had, fucking holding hands in front of—who, Amari? Luci? Who the fuck was gonna marry them? Goro didn't really think about the details that much—but, thinking how they'd get to stand up there and say how much they meant to each other. Promise to be there for each other, forever. It made his heart hurt, in a good way. Felt horrifying and wonderful at the same time. Vulnerability and trust, not just with Hansel but with everyone else who'd be watching them get married. He'd also started to think more about that weird lifespan magic thing. The notion that Hansel could live longer, a lot longer, that Mishka and Goro could fucking… grow old with him. It was fucking crazy. Goro never thought he'd live to see forty, let alone get old. And now, he thought: maybe. Maybe fucking not, though. Maybe fucking not, thanks to Gruumsh. That was the thing about dreaming. The reason he never liked to do it. It was like asking to have someone come snatch it away. # Jonn helped Goro change Hansel into clean clothes. Then, Goro lay down beside Hansel and pulled him carefully onto his side, arranging Hansel's arm over himself. "Gotta change his position," Goro explained to Jonn, even though Jonn hadn't asked. "Prevent pressure sores." Good thing Luci wasn't in the room to fucking see right through that. Was kinda true, though. Pressure sores could be nasty. Goro curled up against Hansel's chest, listening to his heartbeat. Reassured by the weight of his arm, like always. He didn't want to have to explain it to anyone. Couldn't even explain it to himself, really. Hansel couldn't protect him right now. If anything happened, Goro would have to protect Hansel—and he'd do it, he'd fucking do it, he'd open wounds on anyone who tried to lay a finger on them—but sheltering himself in Hansel's arms was the only way he knew how to feel safe. Amari had spent years training him to identify what was making him nervous, to spell out what he was afraid of. He'd gotten… alright at it. Not great. Sometimes he had luck with talking himself out of being scared of nothing, sometimes not. Sometimes he could convince himself he was safe. But being with Hansel, that was the first time he'd ever felt it in his bones. Hadn't even fucking known, until it happened. Shaking in his own skin all those years, telling himself, I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe, there's nothing here to hurt me— And then with Hansel, all the sudden, he'd known. Worked both ways, now, his bones not agreeing with his head. I'm not safe, he told himself, lying next to Hansel's unconscious body. But the deepest part of him told otherwise, and that was what made everything bearable. # He wasn't going to fucking move. Wasn't gonna leave this spot. It'd be different from last time. Last time, he kept fucking it up. Bringing food and water and a million different concoctions to make Hansel drink. And he'd pushed, and pushed, and questioned, not content to leave anything, to drop it, because he never was, but he'd gone and done it while Hansel was exhausted and sick. Great fucking job, Brother Goro. Made himself sick, too, thinking about it, how he'd done everything, everything he could fucking think of, and in the end, it had been those goddamn druid berries. And Goro should've just fucked off from the start, admitted he didn't know what he was doing, stopped clinging to the one thing he thought he was good for. There was another thing, though—Hansel had said he'd been able to eat because Goro stayed with him. So Goro was gonna fucking stay with him. When Hansel woke up, Goro wasn't gonna talk, or question, or try and force shit on him. He was just going to stay there, and hold him, and let Hansel hide his face against Goro's chest. He was gonna do it right this time. He'd learned. He wasn't going to leave. You're goddamn difficult to shake. Thanks for that, shemeshi. Luci could've healed Hansel, if Goro hadn't. Jonn would have cleaned him up. Mishka would make sure no one hurt him—was out patrolling right now, doing just that, Goro bet. Maybe the only thing Goro had going for him, the only thing that really made him special, was that he wouldn't stop clinging. Hansel could've fallen in the lava before, and Goro would've gone right in with him. Hansel could go to the ends of the earth, fighting his way through fey and fiends and gods, wind up on the edge of this plane of existence and trip into the next one, and he'd look down, and there would be Goro, fucking latched onto his waist. Goro was going to stay by his side. He wasn't going to take the sun away. Might be all he was fucking good for, but he'd be good for it. He lay there for a long time. Long enough he had to reposition Hansel again—the pressure sores thing, for real. Had to roll him over to his other side, pull Hansel's other arm over himself. If it weren't for all the people coming in and out of the room, he might've fucking dozed. (Or he might not have. He was tense, stiff as a fucking board, worried Hansel's heart would stop if he didn't hear every beat.) Nobody got it. They kept trying to move him. Telling him he needed a break, needed to go eat, go rest. They didn't fucking get it. "Koshka," Mishka tried. "You're exhausted. Will you rest, please? Let me watch him for a while. I'll make sure he's safe." Goro shook his head. "You don't understand." "I do. You want to be here for him, I know that. But he'd want you to take care of yourself." Goro shook his head again. Roddy and Luci had said the same thing. "He would," Mishka pressed, gently. "If he wakes up, and finds out you haven't slept or eaten, you know he's going to blame himself." Heh. Fuckin' would. For some reason, Goro shook his head again. # Amari had said need could be a sickly, unpleasant thing. So the next time Mishka came by to cajole him, softly, Goro relented. Because there was one other thing he could do for Hansel, that no one else could do, and that was to make himself get up and eat. In fact, he thought—ridiculous as it fucking sounded—that might be the thing he did that mattered most. That's how Hansel was. Didn't matter how many hits he took, long as his family was safe. Didn't matter if Goro poured every ounce of magic he had into healing him, if Goro didn't fucking eat. Goro hated that, but he loved Hansel too fucking much not to give him the one thing he'd really want. He kissed Hansel's cheeks and forehead. Rolled him onto his back, took his hand, and kissed his fingers, and whispered against them. "I'll be back, beautiful." Category:Goro Category:Lina Category:Vignettes